Maid of Orleans

Maid of Orleans

Set your eyes upon this torture stake

As the road to sainthood she must take

The great Princes of both church and state

Did bid her here to seal her fate

To kill the life of one so rare and great

That heaven loved but they did hate

 

For hearing strange voices in her head

The holy words, Saints Michael

Catherine and Margaret said

‘Rise up good Joan for Orleans

Where the English now entrench

Send the English armies homeward

 

Win France back for the French’

As a witch they did decry her

As the Devil’s very scourge

‘To save her soul from Satan

She must be purified by fire

She must be justly purged’

 

But the Lord our God was watching

At every twist and turn

At her trial He kept His place

As He listened to the men of murder

Slander and pontificate

While good Joan, she prayed for

Strength and grace

As they sentenced her to burn

To the woodpile she was taken

Past the screaming of the mob

And she screamed with fear inside her heart

‘Where are you now my Saints of God.’

 

But no Saints this day did answer her

For Our Blessed Saviour

Christ the King was there

‘Be still My little Maid of Orleans

And know that God is here,

To set you free from bondage

And wipe away your tears

I set My Cross before thy face

My Spirit surrounds thee, My love embrace

 

No earthly element can overcome this your shield

Though the men of murder may see your body burn

Have no fear, you will not yield

No flames of Hell can touch your soul

With Me at hand to guard thee

 

No screaming mob, nor spear of hate

Can pierce the heart of one so pure

Of one so great, as pierced My own heart

For love of such men as these on the

Mound of hope at Calvary

I endured all the yoke of death that day

As My Father watched on by

And I screamed in bitter agony

 

Where are you now My God, and why, oh why?

For the sins of the world

My earthly life He did forsake

And I tasted a death so cruel on a torture stake

As the road to Godhead I would take

But as I rose in glory bright and blessed

On that good Sunday morn

 

As King of Kings and Lord of Lords

Death’s conqueror, first born

Of God’s true light

I promised this and commanded thus

That no good child of mine

Who would bear My Cross, for love of Me

Would face such weight of loss

Such pain of agony

For love of God and love of these, I paid for all

On a torture stake at Calvary

 

Now as for these that did bid you here

Who are drunk on power, terror, jealousy and fear

Who would twist into lies My Father’s commands

And betray My church into Satan’s hands

For their crimes they will answer to Me on Judgement Day

 

In the Court of the Lamb, where I hold sway

When the gates of Hell will be opened wide

And these impostor Princes and Prince Bishops

Will be thrown inside

They will scream for mercy, but none shall come

For they betrayed all that is good

The Spirit, the Father and the Son

 

Yet even now good Joan

Do your pleas of mercy still reach My ears

For these barbarians assembled here

You prove once more, with love divine

That truly, thou art of royal blood of My own line

So because of this My holy maid

If they will only repent, your prayers of mercy

Will quell My anger and I will relent

 

But if they do not heed My law

And turn to Me in their allotted time

They will burn in everlasting Hell fire

Let all vengeance then be Mine’

 

So now take God’s hand

Most holy ‘Maid of Orleans’

And beloved of all France and take your place

With Michael, Catherine and Margaret

And all the Saints and Angels

That now gather in Heaven’s splendour

To welcome thee and touch thy face

And crown thee by God’s command

‘Saint Joan of Arc’

By God’s Good Grace.

Original Poetry